


Specimens and Bowling

by hhoneycas



Series: Outings, Arcades and Meet-Cutes [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read, Slight Crack fic, eileen ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhoneycas/pseuds/hhoneycas
Summary: Dean's plan is to drown himself in soda until Sam lets him leave, but that isn't the universe's plan





	Specimens and Bowling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gayyybriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayyybriel/gifts).



> Okay, it's not crack, but I was being snarky while writing, so viola. Have my thoroughly un-beta'd writing

Birthday parties are fucking stupid. Well, not really. Adults not being allowed to participate at a children’s birthday party that they were  _ invited to  _ is stupid. That was the only reason Dean wasn’t enjoying this. It wasn’t  _ entirely  _ Dean’s fault he’d been exiled to the food table. All he’d done was yell “what the fuck” when he’d rolled a gutter ball.  _ Sam _ was the one who sent him away because he was “setting a poor example for his ten year old”. Eileen thought it was funny, but Sam was not having it and put Dean on pizza duty instead of letting him play. Dean had sulked back to his chair and had angrily put piece after piece of pizza onto kid’s plates until they weren’t hungry anymore. Now he was just plain sulking and staring at his phone. Sam walked over and sat down next to him, elbowing him lightly to get his attention.

“Having fun?” He asked, smirking. 

“Is there beer here or is it just more carbonated diabetes?” Dean gestured to the soda can Sam held. 

“Since when have you had a problem with soda?” He said laughing.

“Since I’ve had so much in the past hour I can feel it clogging my arteries.” Dean flailed his arms to emphasize his discomfort. 

Sam raised his eyebrows and gave Dean a questioning look before raising the soda can to his lips and pointing to Dean’s left. 

“Damn it,” Dean said reading the “no alcohol beyond this point” sign hanging on the wall. 

“It’s a kid’s place, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said pouring himself another glass of soda. 

“Not so concerned about your arteries anymore?”

“Oh no, I am.” Dean looked at San pointedly, “But if I am going to rot here bored out of my skull,” He paused, “I am going to do it on a sugar high.”

San sighed, “Would you like to bowl with us again, Dean?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Dean said, downing the rest of his soda and walking back to the lane. He waved hello to Eileen, who began clapping as he walked toward her.

“Welcome back, Dean,” She said.

Dean took three or four bows, signing, “Thank you,” each time. He grabbed a bowling ball as Sam punched his name into the game. 

“Watch and learn, Sammy,” Dean said sauntering over to the start of the lane. He took six steps back, walked forward again, and released the ball from his outstretched arm, all while side eyeing his brother. Sam, on the other hand, watched the ball land forcefully on the wood with a loud bang. This caused Dean to scream, “Mother _ fucker _ !” And jump up and down angrily. 

“And that’s why I benched you, dumbass.” 

“Gutter ball.” Both Sam and Dean turned, following Eileen’s voice and pointed finger to Dean’s bowling ball crawling down the gutter. 

“Damn it,” Dean muttered. He sighed and walked back to the table, knowing he’d be re-benched. He reached the table and glared at the pitcher sitting there. Then he poured himself another glass.

As he lifted it to his lips time seemed to slow as his elbow clipped the side of the plastic container, sending it spilling over the side, ice and all. Time returned to normal and all Dean could utter was a particularly loud string of curses. 

“Dean!” Sam yelled, raising his arms and looking at him with exasperation. The classic, “what the fuck, Dean” look. Dean simply stared at Sam. Then the purple soda staining the floor. Sam. Soda. Sam. Soda. Defeated, Dean dropped his head in his hands until he heard someone clear their throat. He expected Sam or his wife, either of which to be asking “what the hell” in their respective manners. What he found instead was the physical embodiment of a  _ specimen _ . 

“Excuse me.” When he spoke Dean found himself staring dumbly, because  _ holy holy shit. _ Despite his assuredness that he man standing in front of him could be none other than a creation of science, nothing on Earth could have a voice like that. He sounded kind and sincere, yet all Dean wanted to do was obey anything and everything this guy asked.

“Hi,” Dean breathed.

“Hello.” And then he smiled. And Dean was fucked. “Would you like some help?”

“Yes,” Dean said. He was still looking obscenely at the stranger, and only when he realized what he was doing did he clear his throat. “I mean, yeah, that’d be great.”

“Wonderful,” The guy said, seemingly unfazed by Dean’s inappropriate gawking. He smiled again, goddamn him, and leaned down to start picking up the slowly melting ice. 

Dean, being Dean, continued to stare. The only thing he did was violently hand him the pitcher when he looked up. When he finally stopped looking, he took in his surroundings. He did a small sweep of the bowling alley, before locking eyes with Eileen.

She signed a simple, “Please don’t fuck in front of your brother, it would scar him for life,” before turning back to her kid.

“We won’t even get to fucking,” Dean muttered. Or, at least, thought he muttered, until he wasn’t staring at the back of the stranger’s head, but instead at his eyes.

“I’m sorry?” The guy had his eyes narrowed at Dean. He was obviously suspecting something, but why not though? After all, Dean  _ had  _ just insinuated that Dean wanted to screw the guy.

“Nothing.” Dean cleared his throat again. “Need some help?”

“No, I think I’ve got it handled. Though, this will leave a nasty stain.” Then he breathed out a small laugh at his own comment, and Dean melted. 

“It’s a bowling alley, what do they expect? Anyways, thanks for the help, uh,” Dean paused, realizing he had no idea what to call the guy other that Fine Specimen of Science.

“I’m Castiel, and you are?”

“Dean.”

“Well, Dean, I hope you are here with someone,” Castiel said, and Dean felt his heart sink.

“Why?”

“I would be concerned you are a pedophile if not.”

“Oh,” Dean breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “My brother and his wife are here for their kid’s birthday.” Dean gestured to Sam and Eileen, both of whom had taken to watching Dean and Castiel, and waved.

Eileen returned his waved and signed, “Get his number, And something far better off left in sign language. Dean folded his arms and tried to look indifferent, but froze when Castiel raised his hands and signed back something Dean was too shocked to catch.

“Oh shit.” Dean pulled a hand across his face, and turned away, embarrassed.

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice was slow and cautious.

“Yeah?” Dean forced a laugh before turning back.

“Here.” Dean flicked his eyes down to Castiel’s hand, and the small business card in it, and then back up to Castiel. “Unless of course,” He stumbled over his words, fumbling to put the card back in his pocket, “I interpreted wrong.”

In a moment of panic, and trying not to lose his brief chance at a date, Dean grabbed Castiel’s wrist. “Cas-” He looked down at their hands, and pulled the card from Cas’ fingers, and pocketing it. “You weren’t wrong.”

And then Cas was kissing him. And Dean wasn’t ready. Not unhappy, just unprepared. Dean stumbled, and the two of them fell on the table, tipping it, them, and all the ice Cas had picked up, onto the floor. 

“Shit,” Was all Dean could say to the mess around him. 

“My apologies, Dean,” Cas said. He stood and offered a hand to Dean. 

Dean grabbed Cas’ hand. “You’re good,” He said once he was standing. 

“Will you still accept my phone number?” 

“I’ll accept a whole lot more than that. What about you?”

“If you’re suggesting sex, then yes. Dinner would also work,” Cas said. Dean laughed, and Cas simply stared, the very definition of dazed and confused. 

“How about dinner?” Dean asked, throwing an arm around him and reaching down to grab Cas’ phone, then putting his number in the unlocked device. “Call me sometime?” And then he was kissing Cas, one hand holding his face, the other slipping Cas’ phone back into his pocket. Cas, still attached to Dean, grabbed the little business card from Dean’s front pocket, and pushed it into his chest before pulling away. 

“What if you called me?” 

“Okay,” Dean spit out, too dumbstruck to say anything else. 

“Wonderful. Goodbye, Dean.” And he walked away, leaving Dean staring, until he heard his name.

“Are you done? We’re leaving?” Sam asked, trying desperately to mask his entertainment with exasperation. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean coughed loudly and turned to his brother. 

“Dean, you literally  _ cannot  _ ‘no homo’ this. You just made out with a guy.” 

“Oh, yeah. I know.” Dean laughed, smirking at his brother.  

“Gross.”

“Oh yeah, I know.” 

Sam walked away from Dean, and out the door, leaving Dean to catch up. He walked across the carpet to the door, eying the mess at the now righted table and laughing. Just as he pushed the door open he felt his phone buzz.

“Hello?”

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice on the other end made Dean relaxed and anxious at the same time.

“Hey, what, uh, happened to me calling you?” Dean asked running his hand through his hair.

“I don’t like waiting. I also felt like I needed to apologize,” Cas paused.

“For what?”

“Being, well, forceful, it’s a kids’ place, and your brother was there, and I really am sorry, Dean.”

“Please, I’ve done worse,” Dean laughed, then paused, “Though you could buy me dinner to make up for it.”

“Why of course, Dean. How about somewhere with a little less carbonated grape juice? Say the Roosevelt at 7:30?”

“Sounds awesome. It’s a date.”

“I will see you then?

“Yes, Cas,” Dean said, laughing again, “That’s what it’s a date means.”

“Okay. 7:30. I don’t like waiting.”

“Cute, Cas. See you tonight.”

“Goodbye, Dean.”

“See ya.” Dean hung up the phone, and skipped to his car. After all, why not, he Literal Creation of Science was meeting him for dinner.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Comments and kudos keep me alive


End file.
